Truth Within
by Darthsuki
Summary: Being a mechanic for the Separatists is tough, especially when surrounded by nothing but droids every day of your life. Of course, Sakajin Takio would have chosen to be just a mechanic again if she had the option. Because being the apprentice of General Grievous is hard, especially when you're living in the shadow and pain of the choices your ex-Jedi mother had made long ago.
1. Sakajin

The echoes of a great warship echoed with the sound of faint footsteps. They were not hard or harsh, not sounding of metal, but instead soft and undoubtedly living. They were also quite hurried, insistent pattering of sounds moving through the air like flowing water.

The owner of these sounds, Sakajin, had a place to be. But then again, there was rarely a time where she hadn't a place to be. There was rarely a place where she found much peace. That was all and well, a lifestyle she had grown more than used to living for years. In all honesty, as long as she wasn't registered low enough to get a droid serial number instead of a name, Sakajin was happy with how things were.

Strapped to her shoulders and hanging down against her hip was her old leather bag. It was worn from years of use, stained with oil, though it was the only way that Sakajin could ensure she would have the basic tools for maintenance work. She wasn't regarded as any more special than the other droids designated to the same job as her simply because she was flesh instead of metal.

After many times of being ignored with her inquiries to use certain tools in her first months of living on the Black Halo, a Separatist battleship, she quickly learned that fending for herself was something she needed to know. At least it was in the sense of having her own toolset—she had gone for nearly two years without the care or attention of her parents before arriving on the ship, and she was fairly well able to look herself otherwise. More or less. Regardless of the circumstances, the Black Halo was really a home to her, a blessing opened when she had no planet or home to return to.

Those who were not familiar with the Black Halo were not few; the warship was old, beyond and before the time of the clone wars. In fact, Sakajin often mused on the fact that the ship was just as old as she was—19 and still running, amazingly enough. It was updated often enough to stay with much of the current technology, but it never excused the fact that it still had a tendency to break.

The areas that would feel the age most, as ironic as it was, were the areas of updated weaponry. That actually was where Sakajin had to go, a series of medium blaster canons having either completely shut down, or there was some sort of coding and electrical issues keeping them from working properly. She wouldn't know until looking at them, though there were probably already droids there beginning the fix. Droids that, of course, never needed to sleep, or eat, or recover from wounds.

Sakajin didn't dawdle on that thought for long. Doing so only made her wonder why she was given a job as fleshy-living-thing, when there were so many droids that did her job far better. It was a worrisome thought at most, and often the only answer she could give herself was the fact she was shown mercy. Perhaps. Count Dooku never spoke to her, and she wasn't about to ask him. Either way, she had a job and had a life. Living. She was living. No social life, no hobbies, but she was still alive.

Her form continued down the long, drawn hall, looking upon its bleak gray and silver color. There was an occasional window, if one was walking near the surface, though most of the view was usually pitch-black and little else. On occasion when the ship was in a solar system, be it for meetings as much as battle, Sakajin often took the chance to look outside. There were a many beautiful sights in the galaxy, and it at least served to give her at least one moment of peace.

In fact, the weapons could wait just a few minutes. Sakajin knew General Grievous would most likely be pissed, as he always is, but she couldn't help herself. Utapau was fairly interesting to look at after all. More interesting than black space or metal walls.

They had been orbiting the planet for almost a standard week, though Sakajin hadn't much time to take a gander out the window—she had been far too busy getting one of the smaller engines in the lower wings working again, which meant very few windows to stare out. Nevertheless, she couldn't help with the sensation of simple, almost child-like interest that the sight held within her. It was in all just a dusty, dry planet with windstorms all over its surface. A wonder that there was so much life flourishing in the cities that lay in its deep chasms.

Sakajin stepped closer to the window, reaching up a hand and letting it lay against the cool, smooth glass. The side of the ship she was on was facing towards the planet, so there was little more than its surface taking up the visible area. Just dull brown and orange, though for some reason it still held appeal. Or, rather perhaps, it held an interest for the reason _why_ it even held an appeal. It was far, far out on the outer rings with very little ability to offer assistance.

Because at the moment, Lord Dooku was on the planet for some elaborate meeting or another. Sakajin didn't know the entire story (much of her information was gained from heresay and bits of her own observations), but the planet was apparently neutral? Or, secretly aligned with the Separatists. It was in all very confusing, and Sakajin chose not to think too long about it.

She sighed after a moment and decided to keep moving, her footsteps tapping against the metal flooring again.

All alignments were confusing, really. Even being part of the Separatists herself—at least as a mechanic—Sakajin still didn't enjoy the idea of the war and the great value on alliances. Her home planet, Niaku, was neutral for all the years she could recall growing up there as a child. The only time that it had asked for any outside assistance was when her people, the Nii, had started warring with the Sharaidos, a rival species living there.

Perhaps, she could say, it was the only good thing that came from the Jedi stepping in as unbiased members when the two cultures wrote a peace treaty. It was then that Sakajin's mother, Annamarie, met her father Dikutu.

The rest was history, really. As if it had come straight out of some romance holo, the two of them fell deeply in love, leading to Annamarie abandoning her life as a jedi to be with Dikutu. And for the longest time after Sakajin was born, that was the most she ever heard of her mother's past. She didn't dwelve very much in being a jedi or meeting Sakajin's father. And that was probably for good reason to, since Sakajin herself had spent years worrying about her own anatomical issues instead of ones that might dwell within her mother's past.

The humanoid, but very feline-like Nii in all hold the traits of kindness and honor to heart, though the same could not be extended to its youth living in the small migrating village-tribe of Karinu where the young girl grew up. Unlike her peers, who were all built hunters with their sharp claws, muscled legs, and just as sharp senses, Sakajin was as painfully human as she was Nii.

She couldn't climb the mighty Shalk'tia trees like they could, high up towards the extending branches where they would sit down and laugh at her failing attempts to claw at the tree with her blunt, human fingers. She couldn't smell the prey they followed at all like they could, and only ever caught a rabbit once simply because, well, it was alive and didn't exactly run away from her (Sakajin kept it as a pet for a short time before one of the others killed it and claimed the honor).  
The girl didn't even look much like them. While she did have similar facial structures, ears and tail, the rest of Sakajin's form was very human indeed. She was almost entirely furless, and unlike the others her legs simply weren't shaped to bend in the same way. Her hair was the right shade of auburn, and he eyes just a slight shade brighter of green, but those didn't seem to count in Sakajin's plight to be normal to the others.

They were the simple disabilities of being a hybrid, nothing less.

It was a blessings to some extent when she finally took up a liking for mechanics instead of continuing the fruitless endeavors to be a hunter. Of course, living in a village and population that was not entirely advanced with technology didn't exactly aid her curiosities, but Sakajin still managed to tinker and tweak with whatever scraps and spare parts she found (or on occasion managed to trade when the roaming merchants came around to her planet).

Later in life, Sakajin would find that her interest would be the very thing that saved her life after the passing of her parents, in a time when she had nobody to turn to, and a seeming life of poverty and homelessness on Coruscant ahead of her. But because of her interest and skills, she was alive, having the ability to stand just beside the window looking out to Utapau.

Oh how far she had come since then. It was amazing how quickly life could move, sweeping out from underneath one's feet if they weren't perceptive or careful enough to jump when it did. Of course, most wouldn't exactly chose to work in a battleship that belonged to the Separatists. But when your parents are dead and you nearly starved trying to steal food while living in Coruscant back alleys, you took what options that managed to shine your way.

When Sakajin was finally to the elevator, she stood and waited, her feet gently tapping on the ground. The gentle whirring of metal was the only sound around her, humming through the ship itself. It was a bit of a comfort, ingrained in her conscious from years of living and sleeping in the strangest places all over the Black Halo since she was 13.

The sounds that were once frightening soon morphed into gurgles and groans of comfort, a fairly acceptable substitute for where the sound of her mother's voice had once held. The gentle clanking of the inner supports and metal framing were the sounds of her mother's jewelry as it pattered against itself and her skin. The low murmur of the engine room was the soft telling of a story from Sakajin's father, even after her mother said it was time to sleep . The rumbling through the walls was the humming of a lullaby that helped Sakajin drift to sleep. Even as she was, a young woman of 19, she was still in some ways dependent on the sounds of the ship to help her fall asleep.

The elevator made a short sound to announce its arrival on that level, and Sakajin walked in and pressed in the level she needed to be on without much of a glance at the alien lettering. There were just some things she never learned, but memorized to heart.

When she finally stepped out several minutes later, she was greeted by the harsh sound of metal and heat of the familiar area. The air was tinged with a metallic taste, the first sign that something was wrong. Ultimately, the hybrid could already come up with a few ideas of what might be wrong with the canons, even before she turned the corner to the block the damaged ones were located within.

There were three of them, each already being tended to by a number of repair droids. One of the canons looked particularly horrid, and considering that Sakajin could visibly see a crack along its outer metal casing, it was obvious why the air nearly tasted like metal. It was probably poisonous to an extent, but hey. She wasn't about to let herself become anymore a liability than she already was; a single biological creature in a ship full of droids that could easily outdo here, and didn't need to sleep or eat. It wasn't going to kill her, though she was sure it was going to give her one hell of a sore throat after a few hours.

Oh, the joys of being a mechanic. For the Separatists, at least.

Sakajin took a few steps towards the weapons before she was roughly jerked backwards by her shoulder. In response, the girl yelped and tried fruitlessly to right her balance with unsure steps before finally falling back on the floor. The initial shock of the cold, very hard floor make her groan, back already screaming in response.

"Where have you been?" A sudden, rough voice asked above her. Sakajin groaned and slowly pushed herself back up. She ignored the way her butt and tail protested the initial movement. The owner of the low, gravelly voice was known before Sakajin even flickered her eyes too look. "I have called you almost three times; how could it have taken you so long, woman?" And the anger that dripped from it wasn't a surprise either.

"General Grievous, I was several levels above working on something else," Sakajin started in reply, trying to fix a bit of her hair behind her ears. Her tail swayed lightly behind her, the feeling of pinpricks subsiding a slight after its painful impact with the floor. "I can't make the elevator move any faster."

She finally looked up at him. The leader of the droid armies, General Grievous, stared back at her with an expression of anger and general annoyance in his golden eyes, as he always did. His stance was hunched, but he still stood nearly a full head over Sakajin, which never exactly made her feel particularly confident with her words on the best of days.

The cyborg turned and glanced over to the damaged canons and the droids already working on them, before growling. "You are lucky that I'm in a good mood today." Sakajin was almost afraid he was going to say more, but the general merely snarled something else beneath his breath and stepped around her. Of course, that was when the hybrid's overconfidence from her good mood got the best of her. He hadn't said anything about sparring yet, so perhaps she really was having a lucky day for once.

After sighing, she huffed out a low, "I'd hate to see your idea of being in a bad mood." Sakajin never really learned from her mistakes all that much. Especially so when it came to General Grievous, she never knew when to shut her mouth, leading to many—

"For that remark; training room 24-RT, level three. You have four hours to get the repairs done." Grievous didn't give Sakajin any time to let it sink in and reply before he was finally gone, on the elevator for some important thing or another.

"Oh my god," Sakajin groaned to herself when she realized how she just screwed up her day. "And here I thought I was having a good day going." She pressed her hands over her face, berating her stupidity of actually thinking Grievous wouldn't use an excuse to get her to spar with him again.

Sparring with General Grievous was horrible. Being his apparent and only sparring partner was horrible.  
Because apparently Grievous felt that Sakajin was 'the only competent thing on the ship he could spar with on a regular basis'. It was really stupid of her to ask him about it when they first met two years back. There wasn't any sense of 'initiation' either about it. He just started ordering sparring sessions between them since the first day onward.

And while Grievous didn't seem to gain much out of it besides a loss of boredom, there was a vague sense of teaching somewhere in each sparring session for Sakajin to learn from. That was good at least, right? Even though it was exhausting, and she was little more than a mechanic-playing-punching-bag, it didn't hurt for her to learn how to defend herself. And he hadn't killed her.

It still didn't stop her from banging her head against a wall a few times out of pure annoyance. Maybe tomorrow would be a lucky day, instead. She'd definitely get a chance to relax and sleep more than a couple hours tomorrow.

* * *

Cover Art for the story is © r2griff2 on deviantArt

Additional art for the story can be found on my own deviantArt page; the link can be found on my profile.


	2. Not so Lucky

Sakajin reached into her brown burlap sack beside her, searching for the tool she required. Her hand was incautious in its rummaging through nuts, bolts, tools and various kinds of tape, but a flash of sharp pain cutting across her hand caused the girl to gasp and pull her hand back nearly instantly. She winced as she inspected her hand, groaning when she realized what damage had been done out of simple clumsiness.

It was a long, painful gash across her palm, nothing deep, though it was already welling blood and dripping onto the polished steel flooring beneath her. After a huff, the young woman looked around at the supplies she had beside her. There were a range of tools in her bag, but certainly nothing that could be used to clean up or bandage even a small wound. Sakajin growled at her own stupidity; she couldn't simply leave the wound open to bleed or get infected (after all, her work environment wasn't exactly sterile).

After a few moments, the hybrid felt an idea squirming around her head. Quickly, but far more cautiously than before, she reached back into the bag with a different item in mind. She knew she tossed it in some week or two ago after having her technical difficulties with one of the minor blasters on the other side of the ship.

The bag was oily and filthy, with months of dirt and grime clinging to the fabric and leather, but it always got the job done for holding everything she usually needed. Even after digging to the bottom of the bag, the loose cloth she had assumed to find was nowhere she could see. So much for that plan.

When the girl pulled her hand back and gazed once more at her still-bleeding palm, she huffed again. There really was no other option. With one swift movement after grabbing the bottom hem of her shirt, she ripped a strip of cloth just long enough to wrap around her palm a few times. It was a rather filthy shirt anyway, not one that Sakajin would much miss. And bleeding all over herself surely was not on her list of things to do.

Considering the bruises that already lined her arms, legs, and part of her torso, Sakajin already knew a trip to the medical ward was already a great need. She could concern herself about an infection after getting to the medbay. After all, it shouldn't kill her in that short of a timeframe. More or less.

The girl slowly wrapped her hand in the makeshift gauze, the motions gentle, but painful nevertheless. The Black Halo was no longer in the Utapau system, instead already on the course for a new planet for a new mission. Instead of being given any information of what lay ahead, the mechanic had felt the pain of repairing the entire left lower side of the ship's primary weaponry, and then surviving training with Grievous at the end of each day. It was hell, to describe it in the easiest of terms.

Sakajin did eventually get some detail regarding the next in line for the Black Halo however, getting bits and pieces from the General whenever the two sparred (though a better description would be Sakajin getting three strikes shy of getting knocked into a coma).

Ukiato, as she had learned from the cyborg, was a planet just on the edge of Republic command, the last stand of a system otherwise already in Separatist hands. Details, was all the last planet was. Just details.

The problem was the Separatists didn't want the Republic aware of the onslaught, so they spent many months preparing the attack before Black Halo could even get close to Ukiato, otherwise the chance to invade with subtle surprise would be entirely lost.

The few other planets worth anything in the same system, as far as Grievous had explained, already had their alliances bought away, without a single word to the only Republic base that it was surrounded with enemies and wasn't even aware.

Greed was a powerful emotion to carry. It was just another reason that Sakajin never found politics all that appealing. Grievous had even less of a desire and appeal for such a topic, though his precise words were a lot sharper, and partially in another language.

Sakajin was pulled from her musings when she heard the loud clanking of droid footsteps behind her. At first she paid the sound little mind, as droids frequented the area she was working at.

Patrolling, guarding, that sort of thing. One got very used to the sounds if they grew up around them for so many years. The sharp, clanking sounds of droids were something she'd be more surprised not to hear around the clock.

The sound grew closer however, and then stopped. Curious and confused, she got up and turned around to see one of the countless battle droids in front of her, face as anonymous all the other, the only difference a single stamped number on its torso that never once had she bothered to make sense of.

"Lord Dooku wishes to see you in training room 24-RT on level three." It reported. The young woman hesitated for the slightest of seconds. She didn't recall doing anything recently that would warrant punishment, especially when she knew nearly by heart the duty of punishment usually fell upon the General instead of Lord Dooku.

"Do you know why?" Sakajin asked with a quizzical turn of her head, while wiping the dirt off her hands that mingled with the blood from the cut she got prior; she'd take a shower to get all of it off later. The droid sputtered for a few seconds, before finally coming up with a bleak,

"I do not; I was merely sent here to retrieve you."

With a sigh and knowing she wasn't going to get a lot out of him after all, Sakajin agreed. It wasn't as if she really had a choice in the matter anyway.

He gestured for her to follow, and she attempted to fix her crazily frayed brown hair, though it wasn't like anyone really would have cared for the girl's appearance after all; there were times while she was still in PJ's and Grievous wanted her to spar. Vanity wasn't really in Sakajin's vocabulary. She walked down the hall and followed behind the whirring droid with her hands still yanking through unkempt hair, trying to tame its crazy juts and ends.

After walking through a series of hallways and elevators, she came to a large room which said, quite simply, 'TRAINING ROOM 24-RT' in large bold white lettering, though the edges of some letters looked like the paint had chipped off. Sakajin merely recognized the room as one of the General's favorite's to spar in.

With one last look at the door, she sighed, wondering for what reason Count Dooku could have summoned her, and at that, why a training room? She understood the plain logic of General Grievous wanting to fight—in an environment surrounded by droids and robots, he didn't exactly have another being to spar with. The hybrid supposed she simply filled that need, and survived long enough to develop a basic sense of defense against him. He still never outright killed her, thank goodness.

But then again, that could simply be because he wouldn't have anyone at all to entertain him afterwards.

A calm feeling of silence was seeping through the air as Sakajin entered the room. The lights shone brightly overhead, though there was nothing in the room that called for attention. The hard floor beneath was a specialized metal. Sakajin could tell from looking at it for a few moments to identify it as Cortosis, a specialized metal prized for its anti-lightsaber properties. One of the reasons that it was the General's favorite training room.

Unfortunately, the ore was normally not found pure, so the best use for it was in training rooms it, to protect the floor from a stray or dodged lightsaber strike. Sakajin had worked with the rare metal only once or twice, and found its effects fascinating. But the realization was unsettling.

It was one thing for Dooku to call her in, something he almost never did; and to add on that he called her into a specialized training room with a Cortosis mixed metal floor proved even more suspicious. It seemed downright worrisome.

For a few seconds Sakajin wondered if she was the only person really in the room. It was too quiet. The air was tense suddenly, awareness pulled like string, knife just barely pressing down against the tension-filled fiber by its own weight. And then—

Her ears heard the ambush before she saw it, barely, the sound nothing more than a whisper against the metal behind her. Instinctively the young woman jumped out of the way and to the side, but when she landed her leg buckled beneath and she fell to the ground gracelessly.

She hit her head against the hard floor, and suddenly her vision went blurry. The blood flowing within her veins was bubbling with adrenaline, and she was already trying to push herself back onto unsteady feet when Sakajin turned if on instinct to face the attacker The figure that had been charging at her had luckily missed, due to the clumsy tripping. It stood where she once had been, silent, deadly still, and even through her hazy thoughts she could almost taste the danger in the air.

Sakajin saw the figure turn around, and come charging at her again, a white blur crashing forward like a laser bullet. She tried to push herself back to her feet so she could run, but found the unsteady legs beneath her deciding not to move as directed. Her head was still throbbing in pain from the fall to the floor. So instead the girl merely lay on the floor in a helpless heap.

Quickly she looked to the right, finding and reaching to grab a long, thin shape that thankfully she found was a metal sparing weapon. Its weight was familiar in her hands, concentrated in the center for balance and grace, but only if the user understood how to use it.

And unfortunately Sakajin barely did. Not nearly enough that she felt confident with it, but it was better than having absolutely nothing to defend herself with.

She slowly rose, forcing herself back up despite the awkward numbness in her legs, and jumped out of the way of the attacker, eyesight still too blurred to see clearly enough at all. Falling into an instinctual attack crouch as the figure growled in anger and turned to strike at her, the hybrid felt a slashing movement coming down at my shoulder.

Sakajin managed to dodge as second time, but just barely. The sleeve of her shirt got sheared off, the familiar burn of a lightsaber making the skin on her arm prickle with goosebumps, just barely getting away without a burn.

She heard stories of the abilities of lightsabers and didn't feel like losing a limb.

The girl jumped to the side to gain more distance from the figure, blood rushing in flattened ears against the sides of her skull. Fear was starting to nip at the back of her head, fueled by the fact that her shirt sleeve was still warm on her skin, almost burning, and her head was pounding in pain.

Slashing outwards with the poor excuse for a weapon in hand, Sakajin struck low, her eyes aimed for the figure's legs. She felt the pressure of the metal hit with the pole, a clang ringing out and echoing in her flattened ears as she just barely knocked my attacker off balance, allowing me to live through another strike of the lightsaber, this time directed in the general area where her head had been.

The woman stepped back in preparation for another attack, but the figure didn't allow it. Stars flew through her vision when she felt a swift and powerful kick tunnel into a very soft, fleshy stomach, and she dropped her only weapon in pain and surprise. She flew backwards until the bone breaking CLANG echoed through the air.

And suddenly she was on the other side of the room, slumped over, back against the wall, completely dazed and wondering what the hell happened.

Sakajin's body screamed in pain, but she had to stay alert. Fear prickled through her like a wave. Dead. She was going to die if nothing was done. Somebody was about to kill her.

She looked up, eyes squinted, to see with a stream of fear that the figure was launching towards her again. Horror and self-preservation hovered above the cowering young woman, time suddenly freezing in slow motion. She couldn't move to jump or dodge again.

In a vain attempt that she tried to defend herself, almost in a last-ditch effort of childish fear, Sakajin put her arms up to protect her head, and shut her eyes tight, bracing for the pain of impact. The air tensed. Fear spiked. She felt a familiar coursing and emotional flooding in her body, the feeling like something was going to happen.

Time was suddenly so very, horribly slow.

Instead of feeling the crushing pain of death and the burning agony of a lightsaber, she felt a tingling sensation in her arms and hands—

And then a very, very loud crash echoed through the large room.

Sakajin opened her eyes slightly to see what had happened, and it took a minute before the blurriness finally dissipated, body slowing its reaction of fear. Her heart took a while before its thumping settled to a tempo where she could hear past it.

The girl's arms were completely numb, while a feeling of cold confusion spilled over in her head. Standing up on now wobbly legs took a bit of time, but she managed after a while.

As a new feeling of exhaustion revealed itself to the girl, she began to tip over, about to fall, fall down once more onto the hard floor, and then perhaps into the darkness of unconsciousness if she was lucky.

But it seemed luck had a different idea for the outcome. Someone caught Sakajin before she fell as a heap on the floor, warm hands grasping at her shoulders and keeping the hybrid up and on her feet. She heard a familiar voice speak happily,

"Very good! She did better than expected, wouldn't you say General?" immediately Sakajin's head clicked into place. She stood straight up as possible, regardless that Dooku was mostly holding her tired body up to begin with. It was a reaction of muscle and memory, a low servant regarding the appearance of his lord or king.

"Y-you had s-summoned me, Lord Dooku?" She asked very quietly, as if she wasn't utterly exhausted, and he wasn't holding her up from probably falling unconscious on the training room floor. He let go of her arms without a response to the question and moved away; thankfully Sakajin didn't crumple onto the floor. Instead, the man continued in a low-pleased perhaps?—rumble.

"I had a feeling she was sensitive with the force," the man said, not missing a beat. "It seems she took to those years of sparring far better than I would have otherwise assumed."

He wasn't talking to Sakajin it turned out, and when she took a risk to raise her eyes (most of the blurriness gone, a very agonizing headache taking its place), she found he was actually speaking to someone just a few steps beside her. She turned (a bit too quickly, as my head objected) to see none other than General Grievous glaring at her in return; He REALLY was not in a good mood.

"My master had suggested she start training, and now I am starting to see why. A basic grasp on force and self-defense abilities without training. Well, proper training at least. I don't believe her acting as a punching bag for your…distasteful outbursts of anger actually counts."

Sakajin could tell Grievous struggled to keep his voice steady as he spoke back to his master. "My lord," He growled, glaring once more at the woman in question, those golden eyes carrying a flaring look of rage. "Are you sure you need another apprentice? Do you really think she has any potential? She's merely a child, after all." For a moment, the hybrid was sure she really should have taken offense to that statement.

Dooku laughed heartily. "It is not I who will be teaching her," he smirked, though it was very subtle, "It will be you instead." He watched Grievous' expression grow into annoyance, and then into fury.

Sakajin could tell that the cyborg was almost to the breaking point. He looked ready to retort with something when Dooku continued.

"Though as clumsy as a youngling, and as naive as a padawan, she has so much potential to learn the grace and ability of the lightsabers." The older man took a deep breath, his words so perfectly intoned, a natural speaker.

Even as Grievous stood so calmly, the young woman felt the tension in the air practically pouring from his aura; he wanted to punch something.

The hybrid was frozen with shock, lacking the ability to say much of anything at all to vocalize her confusion and awe. The General, of course, wasn't shy in his response.

"I don't need an apprentice!" He declared with a harsh snarl. "She would just get in the way!" His hands were clenched so hard that the metal of his palms scraped against his sharp fingers. Sakajin flattened her ears in pain at such a distressing high screech.

Lord Dooku wasn't at all perturbed by Grievous and his rage. In fact, he almost looked pleased, a smile on his lips. "You heard what I said, General. Teach her to use light sabers as I have taught you. That is all you'll need to concern yourself for." The count glanced at the girl in question once last time before beginning to walk away from the General her both. "In fact, take her with you on your trip to Ukiato in the coming months. It should prove a suitable first test for her." Dooku smiled. "If she is as unworthy as you claim, she'll be dead before you even land on the planet. She's held up in one piece with your sparring so far."

Green eyes, still staring relatively downward, watched as Dooku's form retreated out of the room. Silence took over the air, filling Sakajin's lungs with a sense of dread for whom she knew was still beside her. Whom she had just engaged in combat, pissed off, and was now under the care of.

After turning around enough to look at the general, she saw he was glaring at her, but not in an angry way. That was a surprise.

He seemed to be looking at her with a look of mischief in his golden eyes. And that frightened Sakajin outright.

"So, Dooku thinks you should be my apprentice, eh? Let's just hope you'll survive until we get to Ukiato." his remark made jolts of fear rip through the air for her. He noticed this response and turned away, satisfied. "But count yourself lucky girl; since you are now my apprentice and not just the mechanic, I can't technically kill you in training anymore." And then he was gone.

Sakajin was left there stunned about everything she had just experienced in the last twenty minutes. In twenty minutes the young woman had gone from a mechanic and part-time sparring partner/punching bag, to the apprentice of the feared General Grievous.

She wasn't sure if she should really be feeling lucky.

* * *

Cover Art for the story is © r2griff2 on deviantArt

Additional art for the story can be found on my own deviantArt page; the link can be found on my profile.


	3. Ukiato

_Several Months Later_

Training was absolute misery, but the tending of any resulting wounds, cuts and bruises was utter agony. An agony Sakajin never at all looked forward to after a training session.

Her arms and legs stung horribly, decorated with criss-crossing cuts, proving very well that longer sleeves and pants would probably be a good idea for future sparring sessions. She wasn't even entirely sure how she managed to get most of them, except perhaps on a stray edge of metal here and there when her body toppled to the ground after a particularly powerful downstrike.

Nevertheless, those stinging limbs burned, being tended to with a sterilizing wipe that made the girl wonder how such an agony was being any bit helpful in healing her wounds. Though one couldn't blame her for yelping at every sweep of the cloth against her skin, though it did seem to get on the nerves of another.

"This would be quicker and easier if you would be still," The medical droid standing beside and tending to her said, a slight tinge in his tone. "You are always so squirmy when it comes to getting your wounds healed and taken care of."

Sakajin growled and winced after he smoothed the damp cloth over her arm again, his touch surprisingly gentle despite his rather brunt reply to her attitude.

It had only been four or five standard months since Sakajin became the apprentice of Grievous, but within the first two weeks she already had more bruises that dappled her body then a Wookie had anger issues. And it didn't exactly get better with time, either.

The General proved quite aggressive during training, making their sessions more like brawls than a learning experience. She would be fairly lucky to come out with just her arms covered in scratches or bruises.

In all, it wasn't very different than how things had been before.

He taught Sakajin how to fight hand to hand with just about everything. They used electro staffs, once a blaster, and on occasion she got to train with a lightsaber. However, lightsabers were a very tricky weapon to use. When you attempt to crash course someone into learning an art that normally starts from childhood, the result isn't entirely pretty. She managed to get the hang of using one without running too high of a risk of cutting her arm or tail off. She had a basic understanding of offence and defense, and even recently started to understand the basic points of blaster deflection.

That was literally the only time in her life that Sakajin actually felt thankful for sparring with the General for years even before she became his apprentice. It definitely helped.

However, she found that the training sessions that included lightsabers turned out to be the most furious and painful of them all. Those training sessions left her in the medical ward a lot.

Sakajin never learned any particular form of fighting with lightsabers as she originally had been lead to assume, though Grievous informed her that she would eventually specialize in one as she progressed. There were seven forms in all, each with their own strengths and drawbacks.

General Grievous knew all of them, much to the girl's surprise, or rather lack thereof. He wouldn't be as harsh or talented as a fighter if he didn't know so much about them.

There wasn't a sense of care for whatever form Sakajin used or learned by that point in terms of form—as long as she could keep herself from getting killed, she was happy. Worry could be had long down the road after Ukiato, after all.

If Sakajin survived, of course.

Grievous worked her so hard that she could barely stand up without almost toppling over most days. So much training; It made Sakajin nearly wished she could just give up and go back to working on engines and weapons on the ship. But even then, her life hadn't been much better. The only sense of compensation for what changed was going from being the punching bag, to a punching bag with a slight more reputation and respect from the driods.

It was just enough difference to keep the girl sane, at least.

Though it was a rather curious thing that she had spent so long learning about the art of the lightsaber, but not the art of using the force. Hadn't that been one of the deciding factors in the beginning? Why wasn't she learning it? Grievous certainly either didn't know himself, or didn't have the ability to use it (the latter seeming far more plausible).Once the question, purely out of curiosity, came up, and that left Sakajin with a painful throbbing bruise across her shoulder when he shoved her in response and she fell to the metal flooring. Mental note: don't ask that again.

"Why do you think he hates me?" Sakajin asked suddenly, looking at the droid next to her in a casual yet pained tone and ignoring the stabbing ache in her body as she spoke.

She normally tried to talk to the droids when able, though for a general rule, their ability of conversation very much lacked.

But there was the occasional exception, the medical droid tending to the girl's wounds being one of them. His code and serial number was far too long to point out, several of the letters used she was certain weren't even familiar. So instead, she simply referred to him as Zap. In what Sakajin could call the only act of kindness from the General, the medical droid was put on the ship just after her training began.

A dead apprentice wasn't very useful, after all, especially if they died because they bled out or got an infection (something curable). And it was nice, actually interacting with a droid that had a vague sense of anatomy and physiology, and humor to boot. That did help when it came to medication and treatment. And her sanity.

"I don't believe he /hates/ you," Zap beeped in reply. "He has always been broody and easy to anger, according to the ship's logs and archives." Sakajin hissed a bit, though that could have been more from the fact that the burning sterilizing cloth was rubbing over her exposed shoulder, bearing perhaps the worst friction burns she'd ever gotten from skidding across the metal floor so much in training.

"Then explain why he always seems to have a threat out for me; he nearly sliced me open!" A sharp gesture from the girl painfully indicated to the droid the burned gash in her shirt, which exposed a burnt stomach as evidence. "A few inches closer and my guts would have been spilling out!"

**Earlier That day**

RAM! Sakajin's head was knocked against the wall. She could feel the blood trickling down her face from the impact; the taste of iron practically covered her tongue. Struggling to return on her feet, she could hear the thumping sound of her heart beating out of her chest, lungs burning from exhaustion.

She opened her eyes to see flashes of blue and green coming closer. When her legs gave out beneath her and failed to move, her next instinct was to hold out her only means of defense—an electro-staff. The weapon was almost instantly kicked out from the girl's grasp, a leg then kicking and launching her backwards into the metal wall. There was a sharp booming sound as body met metal, and then something a bit blurrier afterwards, though that was probably her responding scream when a wave of agony flooded through Sakajin's body.

Her body slumped towards the ground and started gasping for breath.

"You'll never be able to fight a Jedi if you can't even dodge," Grievous growled as he launched towards her again, movements quick and agile. She tried to get up and defend herself, but tumbled to the left and missed light saber slashes that hit where a torso would have been. If she didn't do anything, Sakajin was definitely dead.

She fell back to the ground in a heap of pain and exhaustion (how long had training been so far? Two hours? Three?), and looked up to see Grievous standing above with a confident glimmer in his eyes. She ignored the stabbing pain all over her limbs as she rolled over and forced herself back onto her feet.

"Now that is a little better." He said with a dark shadow in his voice. Suddenly he jumped right up to the surprised girl (fast, far too fast to track) and slashed forwards; she didn't have time to think as he mercilessly pushed a lightsaber up to her abdomen, missing only by centimeters an actual cut through flesh.

Sakajin screamed in agony from the mere proximity of the blade to her stomach, close enough to feel the searing heat on her skin, but not burning it through. There was a faintly heard a chuckle past the roaring pain thrashing through her mind.

"You still have so much to learn."

The agony against skin only lasted but a few seconds, quickly retreating just as fast as it was felt. Sakajin gasped on instinct, not having taken a breath in fear it would have been her last, and slumped to the floor. She tried feebly to push herself, at least to sit up, but the woman's arms gave our beneath her.

"We are finished for today," Grievous declared, very little sense of care or concern in his tone, even as his apprentice lay on the floor, still gasping for breath and wits after her head got knocked around so much. When she didn't much make a motion to respond, he seemed a little more attuned to her current state, looking down at her and saying, "You better get to the medical bay before you bleed to death, and better get that burn looked at."

And with that, he walked off, leaving Sakajin to attempt to get herself back up. That attempt failed, as did the second, and finally she just stopped bothering trying to get up at all. Maybe sleeping on the floor for a few hours wasn't half bad of an idea, until the real pain of the burn on her stomach really started to set in.

The last thing the woman remembered before completely blacking out was being picked up by a pair of mechanical arms, and hearing that familiar raspy voice say, "…Dooku would not be pleased if you die."

After that, she awoke to find herself in the med bay with Zap looking over the injuries she sustained. A few cuts, many scrapes, bruises, and some minor internal bleeding.

Zap said she would be alright in a week or so with his medical ability, as most of the injuries were superficial if anything, but he was sure to give Sakajin his own anxious advice, "Don't overwork yourself on the next mission, Saka, or your injuries could easily worsen. The bleeding was minor this time, but any harsh stress on the body or blows to your abdomen within the next few months might cause even worse bleeding next time."

Sakajin just rolled her eyes and told him she would be fine, even if her own, similar worry was there and merely left unsaid.

**Two Weeks Later…**

Even though she was farther away in the hanger, Sakajin could still hear the barking of orders through all of the commotion, ringing through the air. Droids were everywhere, chaos abundant in every corner of the ship; they were getting ready to invade Ukiato.

She was in awe as each ship took off from the bunker and out towards the clear atmosphere of the planet, and quickly remembered that she still needed to find the ship that was going to take the General and her to the surface. The young woman wandered aimlessly in the large bunker for a while; ships crowded every direction around, droids humming past her with orders for something or another, and ships awaiting for their crews strewn around to be ready at any moment to take off. Pure, organized chaos really.

Grevious was fairly simple to find in the masses of all the other droids marching along their way; one just needed to listening to the angry shouting of course. It took a while for her to shuffle her way past line after line of marching droids, but Sakajin soon managed to make her way across the hanger and beside where her master stood. In response to her presence, Grievous lifted his attention towards her

"The ship we will be using is over there." Sakajin noted the very strained, angry emphasis on the word 'we'. _Oh yeah. Hates me._ She thought with a wince.

He indicated to a small ship near where he stood, which looked like it could hold a small squadron of droids, possibly. It was a sleek silver color, two dark red stripes going down the front in a way that seemed more decorative than useful. She waited for just a few moments of organization as he was the first to board the ship, followed by his small number of magna-guards that followed close behind.

Sakajin took one last look behind her at the chaotic whirring and humming from the other ships, some already had launched to the planet, while others still in preparation. Noise filled her ears, even pulled down flat against the bone of her head to blat most of it out. How any sense of organization managed in the shrill sound of marching and orders, she would never understand.

ahead, taking slow steps into the smaller ship and taking the seat close to my master in preparation for flight. Luckily I got to sit next to the window, so I could look out without appearing spaced out or distracted. Well, moreso than I normally seemed to be.

Once all the magna-guards boarded the small vessel, Sakajin boarded, taking a spot to sit just beside the General. Though it was quickly short-lived however, when he glanced over to her, and suddenly she felt the need to stand, just as the others were. So she did, quickly pushing herself onto her feet as the ship began to rumble to life. The window beside the woman glimmered lightly as the engines started up, rumbling growing louder, and finally the ship moving out of the bunker. Sakajin moved to grab the closest edge to her, holding tight to keep from swaying about.

After a few minutes, she could see the surface of the planet clearly through the windows. Mostly forested, but there were large areas of what she could only assume were grasslands. Not too many mountains, nor large oceans, though a few bodies of water that bordered the term lay scatted about the land. Beautiful, really.

It reminded Sakajin much about Niaku.

Niaku was (and hopefully still is) a planet unlike any other. The Sharaidos people in the swamplands in the south, mountains to the north, with massive lakes and grasslands all in the middle where the Nii themselves mostly resided. It was lush with life in all corners, and through a blessing of living in a village that usually close to the border between the Oceanic and Plains tribes; she was familiar with the plains and sea both, even when they had to move with the herds for hunting.

Sakajin could even recall her poor attempts to climb the few, but massive trees that dotted along the lush, thick grasslands, and a time or two attempting to catch fish in the rivers that lay close to her home village of Karinu. It was nostalgic really, looking at a planet that reminded her so much of her old home. Of course, she hadn't seen Niaku in years, since she was…11?

Sakajin's thoughts stopped abruptly, deciding not to dwell much on the memories of what finally pushed her off her planet. Those were better left forgotten, instead flooded over by better memories instead.

As her thoughts lingered about her past, Sakajin's eyes gently moved over towards Grievous. It then occurred to her how little she actually knew about him. She understood his rank, his ability, his ruthlessness, but his past was all a mystery to her. Even his species was shrouded in questions. She had heard of the people of Kalee, and only a few interesting things about their history. But that was all her knowledge carried.

Perhaps that was how things should be after all, unspoken secrets between a master and a student, unimportant ones that didn't do anything to aid a mission or sparring session. She doubted he knew anything about her past in turn.

Suddenly Sakajin realized someone was talking to her.

"Girl! Wake up!" She jolted out of her thoughts to see the General staring at her attentively. "Pay attention when I'm debriefing you, else you get your head shot off the moment we get on this planet!" She stood up straighter than was probably possible.

The feeling of dread filled her as she spoke. "I apologize, sir. Er—What did you say?" Grievous glared at Sakajin for a few seconds more, the dread thickening in the air around her. But he surprisingly, he held out a light saber instead.

"You will need this," came his gruff voice, the weapon loose in his grip. Sakajin slowly reached out and took it in her own hand, turning it over and looking at it in a slight awe. She didn't have much time to observe its finer details however, when Grievous continued. "Considering this is to be your first and hopefully not final mission with me, you WILL need this to defend yourself; I will not be babysitting you if you fall behind."

The light saber was a polished silver, familiar in shape, but not exactly the one she had used in her training. New, perhaps, though the idea was dropped when the remembered how many lightsabers Grievous had from the jedi he had slain. Oh. Sakajin tried not to dwell on that connection for long for various reasons.

Upon further inspection of its hilt, she felt the engraving of a symbol, right beside where her thumb would be held against the metal. It was the same symbol that was on the front her brown tunic. It was also the very same that was on the back of Grievous' cape. She was curious at what it meant.

Sakajin always wondered if it was Kaleesh, but never asked Grievous if the assumption was true or not. Natural instinct really, not to ask him any questions that she had even the slightest thought would enrage him.

There was a sudden jolt, probably that of the ship finally entering the atmosphere of the planet. The rumbling grew louder, harsher, and the woman's feeble grip on metal gripped even harder.

Once the shaking seemed to smooth out, she dared to turn her head and peer out the window, watching as the surface of the planet grew larger and larger still. The forests she had spotted before were in even greater detail, showing how massive the trees were on the surface. Some were tall and were thick with green leaves and foliage, others weren't as big, they were shorter and a darker brown, red, maroon leaves. Upon getting even closer, she could pick out vines and root systems rumbling through what few clearings there were in the forests themselves, like underground snakes coiling through the rock and soil.

It was for barely a moment, a glance out the far corner of the window towards the massive clearings, but Sakajin saw a battle taking place. She could see the faint color of blasters from both sides, the flicker of white which could only have been the clone soldiers out there.

There was defiantly a Republic base on the planet, deemingly weak or not. With the size of the battle taking place, even from the small snippet of a glance Sakajin got, it certainly didn't look weak. How many soldiers and droids had she seen? Thousands perhaps, maybe more.

The sight and realization of what they were dropping into caused Sakajin to shiver. She had been a part of war only once in her life; she never wanted to realize it again. Not like before. Her hand unconsciously clenched around the lightsaber. Safe. As long as she held onto it, as long as she listened to Grievous, she was safe.

They were fighting against humans after all. Sure, the clones were intelligent, trained and bred for war, but they were still just humans. Humans had weaknesses.

Humans were not seven foot tall reptilian figures that looked as if they had just walked out of one of her nightmares.

Sakajin shook her head violently to dispel that rising connection, putting herself in the now rather than the then. The Sharaidos were long gone in her past. They couldn't hurt her, couldn't get her. And yet the impression was still there.

The fear that only a small child could carry flickered in her past, knowing absolutely nothing about the finer points of broken treaties, territorial lines, and war. All she knew, and could most vividly see when it came to war were glowing eyes, towering figures of shadow and malice, and death.

Oh yes, lots of death.

It was a grim, but harsh reminder to her as Sakajin finally managed to yank herself out of that headspace, reminded precisely why she left her former home in the first place, and part of the reason that she couldn't return. But that was then, and it was now. Now she was on Ukiato. Now she was older, and hopefully stronger. Now she could have some hope to defend herself.

The ship landed a few minutes later, Sakajin feeling a combination of eagerness to match her will with war, and a fear of the past that still clung to her heels.

* * *

Cover Art for the story is © r2griff2 on deviantArt

Additional art for the story can be found on my own deviantArt page; the link can be found on my profile.


	4. Ambush, Ambushed

Sakajin peered across the vast landscape, cautious as she walked from the ship just a few steps behind the General and his MagnaGuards. The ship had landed as quietly as it possibly could, but yet the group still had to be cautious, careful for any radars that might have caught them even in their efforts of subtlety.

When Sakajin had a chance to look around after exiting the ship, she could see that the area around them was completely silent; not a single soul to be found, though that was perhaps what they were hoping to achieve in the first place. Off in the distance from where the ship had landed were a group of distinguished, but rather primitive huts. Perhaps they were leading to a small village in the distant clearing? The environment otherwise was a thick, forest landscape.

She had never seen so much green before in her life, and certainly not that many trees. The ones she noted were massively tall—though not as much as the ones on Niaku—with thick leaves that shaded the area below, effectively blocking out most of the sunlight from above. There were many paths and clearings that cut through the brush and vegetation, where the ground was little more than short grasses and moss.

For a few moments the girl stood behind the General as he looked around himself. "The base is not far," He said, thought it was obviously more for Sakajin's sake than the guards, whom merely stood back by the ship itself. Well, it was just Sakajin and Grievous, it seemed. "Just keep up and don't get yourself killed, female."

That was simple enough.

After a few seconds Grievous started running towards the nearest of the huts from their position. It took Sakajin a moment to catch the movement herself and start following behind. It was hard to match his speed at all. Grievous didn't give his apprentice a second worth of care if she fell behind, and Sakajin didn't much expect him to. She didn't have too much issue moving through the clearings or thinner areas of the forest, since it all was simply keeping up to a degree.

It was when they hit thicker portions of forest and trees that it grew difficult, she trying to maneuver past massive tree roots and broken branches. Grievous simply seemed more than able to move around or over any obstacle he came across—Sakajin had to climb and tumble her way through. She was fairly certain her legs were scratched to hell because of it. She wouldn't boast about any degree of stamina held with her running ability, because compared to Grievous, none of it mattered. It was black or white—keep up with him, or not.

The rows of small huts and other similar buildings grew more and more prevalent as they moved deeper and deeper into the village and through the forest, the trees soon giving way into dirt roads and simplistic straw or stone buildings.

It was almost hauntingly empty, devoid of people walking its dirt roads, and that by itself was enough to unsettle the young woman. But she followed without question, trying to keep her curiosity pressed down as much as possible. Focus on the mission. Focus on getting it done.

Grievous stopped rather suddenly, just within the hanging shadow of a hut as it lead into a vast clearing within the village. Sakajin slowed, and finally halted just behind him, steps slowing into silence once more.

"What's wrong? Is there something ahe-" She began to ask, though perhaps a little louder than desired. Grievous was swift to turn around and press a cold metal hand to her mouth, effectively stopping the rest of her question. Instead, her expression of pulled brows was hopefully enough to communicate her curiosity and worry instead.

She didn't get an answer at first, not until the metal palm was pulled off her mouth, leaving her lips only a slight numb.

Instead of talking, the General merely gestured for her to step forward beside him. Sakajin quickly took a few steps forwards, to the edge of the protection of the hut's shadow. Oh. She could understand why they had stopped.

As it turned out, the clearing and square of the village wasn't as void of life as Sakajin had once given it credit for.

There were at least ten or so clone troopers that she could see at first glance in the filtered light of the sun into the square. Several were talking to each other, looking as if they'd been positioned there for a while since, the others merely standing guard in positions scattered about. And of course, all of them looked more than ready for combat.

Hadn't Grievous said there was nobody this far out of the main battle? Why in the world were there troopers in the completely opposite direction of the ongoing battle from the planet's base and capital city?

"Are they standing guard?" Sakajin turned around slightly to ask in a whisper. "I thought all their infantry was defending the base; why would they be out this far out?" She turned her head back to look at the scene before them. There was absolutely no way to get past without at least a few of them seeing. It also raised a thought of worry if they called for any sort of back-up. At least the mission was salvageable at best if they managed to get all of them.

Almost managing to get a look as another, red-armored captain trooper entered her line of sight to start talking to one of the others, Sakajin's focus turned back to her master. He looked positively furious.

"They set us up!" He snarled to himself, his body tense enough that it looked like he was about to lash out at anything too close. "I was told there would be a direct opening to the base!" He seethed and emanated pure, unrestrained anger, and Sakajin could only look on in her own sense of confused worry. She opened her mouth to say something, but was quickly cut off by another snarl. "This complicates the entire plan." She aptly closed her mouth once more; perhaps it was best that she not say anything at the moment.

If there was one group of clones standing guard, who knows how many others there were, stationed around the base in much a similar manner. Not only that, but if the information they went on had so much wrong with it already, who was to say the entirety of the plan was based off falsified data?

Either way, they were facing an issue.

Just when she was about to finally ask a question on what they were going to do about the issue, she felt a sudden pressure forcing her forward and off balance. It took her a few moments to gain her wits again after hitting the hard ground, but when she finally managed to push herself up just enough to look back, Grievous was already backing deeper into the shadows, growling a quick, "Distract them!" before disappearing completely out of sight.

Dammit. Sakajin felt the ache in her back from where Grievous either kicked or pushed her forward, though it hardly mattered about the detail when she finally realized where she was. Dust plumed in the air as her body kicked it up, making her mouth feel dry and absolutely disgusting. Coughing and sputtering to get most of it out, she pushed herself up onto one knee.

Then she froze. The shadow wasn't on her body anymore.

She was very, very visible.

Her eyes turned to the clones. Most of them had already spotted her; several with their weapons up and ready, even from all the way across the clearing. She slowly pushed herself up onto her feet, slow, watching their reactions of nothing but caution.

"…Didn't they clear out all the natives?" One of the clones asked, though it was very hard to tell which one it was.

"Of course they did. How the hell does _she_ look native to you?" Another quipped, the other side of the group. "I don't exactly recall the natives resembling cats. Or being that short, really."

Sakajin just stared on in a combination of muted confusion and mild worry towards the group of clones. They weren't attacking her just yet; should she pull out her lightsaber? Should she just continue to stand there until they decided she was a threat?

But that was until another spoke up. Or rather, he stepped forward.

His stature was no different than any of the others. He wasn't decked with weapons or extra armor besides an odd bit on his shoulder and some sort of cloth wrapped around his hips (perhaps more a showy thing? It wasn't exactly an effective 'armor'). His steps towards the girl were slow, contained, but not at all that of fear or caution. If anything, it could have been a proper label to call his saunter curious.

He was a captain, the leader of the group, most likely. Of course, that was if the large, flaring pauldron on his shoulder and distinct red, blazing designs across his armor were any indication of it. Captain, perhaps, though considering the smaller number of clones in the area, he could have been a lieutenant. The detail of rank wasn't really important nor at the forefront of Sakajin's brain, considering that he looked more than formidable of an opponent with that blaster of his strapped to his back, or the one just hanging off his belt. More than easily in reach.

"State your name and rank," he said, low toned and no-nonsense. Sakajin stuttered for an answer between coughing the rest of the dust out of her lungs. The man didn't really count that as an excuse for a non-answer of course, as he continued to step closer, voice getting even more demanding. "You aren't on the Republic side and you aren't a native; who are you?"

"I-" Sakajin started, wiping her mouth with the back of one hand. The dust really stung, cleaning to the inside of her throat and making it feel like sandpaper. "Er—Sakajin. My name is Sakajin." Did that count as distracting them? Really, the woman doubted that Grievous wanted her to make small talk. But it was too late to make a grab for her weapon then, not with so many of them blasters-pointed right at her forehead. Sakajin wasn't sure she could concentrate in deflecting that many shots.

Small talk distraction it was, then.

The clone captain's expression was obviously hidden by the helmet, but she nonetheless felt the expression of confusion he gave her in return to the short, blunt answer. "Sakajin," he restated, as if saying the name himself would jog some sort of memory. "…Where are you from? I apologize, but I don't find you familiar at all." It wasn't really all that surprising; she did appear to be a jedi to some extent of things.

"Er." The issue was that she didn't know how to respond to that question. Not being skilled in the manner of creating identities or details on the fly of time, Sakajin merely stood there for a few moments in the mere attempt to come up with anything.

Suddenly the captain clone, close enough now, grabbed her shoulder. Sakajin's expression was instantly that of shock and defense, and she tried to pull away.

"What? Hey, hands off!" She couldn't yank herself back, but it was quickly found that the clone wasn't trying to pull her forward. Instead, all he did was pull around to look at the—

Oh crap. Grievous' symbol on the front of her shirt. That was a pretty blatant symbol of alliance, assuming someone understood who it represented. Panic was flooding her stomach as realization moved across Sakajin's face.

She saw the reflection of her face in the visor of his helmet. That look of fear, downright horror, as the pieces of obvious meaning slowly fell together for both of them. She could only be lead to assume that the face underneath the visor was already pulling in confusion, or rather realization if he actually did understand the symbol.

For that moment, Sakajin was sure she felt the cold caress of death digging into her thoughts, seizing her worries and forcing them to the front of her brain.

And that was when Grievous finally decided to show up again.

There was a scream of pain behind both Sakajin and the captain clone as they both turned to the source from the others in the square. The cyborg was already mowing through each of them, a vicious kick here and a powerful slash of a lightsaber there sending many to the ground.

Several clones were already down in the first few seconds, their frenzied return fire and calls of codes and words too quick to catch.

The reaction from the red-armored clone was almost instantaneous. Like a fluid, water-smooth motion, the captain tightened his grip on Sakajin's shirt and pulled a handblaster from his belt, holding it to her head without a single tick of hesitation. Sakajin stared back, wide-eyed.

Dead.

Dead.

So dead.

Time seemed to slow as everything came down to the focus of the barrel pointed at Sakajin's head just inches away from her eyes.

_A young child is in the middle of chaos. Fire is blazing around her, scorching, burning, destroying everything that it caresses in its deadly lust for destruction. The child is crying, sitting on the ground as the world rips itself apart around her. Her people are fighting, losing, dying. She holds her hands over her eyes, desperate for the darkness to calm her, but her ears still pick up the screams of the innocent and the calls of the murderers._

Suddenly, she is enveloped by warm, familiar arms. Her mother's voice fills her ears, comforting her. The child clings instantly to the woman, small hands grabbing and holding herself against her mother's body. She cries harder.

The woman carries her daughter through the burning village, until finally she is stopped. The creature before her is tall, reptilian and bipedal. It's scales and skin are nearly mottled green and black, it's eyes almost glowing yellow. The woman pulls her child closer instinctively, stepping back in a ready effort to defend herself and her child if only to escape the chaos around them.

But before the moment continues, suddenly another jumps in front of the woman. A Nii warrior, one arm reached back in a form of protection for the woman and her child, the other holding onto a spear. The creature almost seems to smile, mocking, and hisses at all of them. The mother sounds agonized as she begs the warrior, her husband, knowing already what he's about to do, and what would happen to him if he did.

The warrior pushes both mother and child back, telling them to run away, run far, far away. He looks back at the creature and snarls, lips pulling back to expose sharp, bright teeth. His fingers flex, claws slowly emerging. The woman is hesitant as she backs away. The child is still sobbing, crying, clinging to her mother because she can hear everything, but wishes to hear nothing at all.

The screams are getting louder.

The warrior tells the woman again to run, and this time she listens, turning on her heel and sprinting away. The child doesn't stop sobbing until she's too tired to even stay awake.

Instinct flared in the back of her mind as the memory fled and time started up again. Adrenaline controlled the movements as she finally swung a free arm up, effectively knocking the gun out of the clone's grip and throwing them both off-balance, just enough for her to yank her body back and get her shirt out of his grip.

She backed up a few steps, catching her body back to stand firmly on the ground. The sound of chaos was filling the air, streaming through her ears so loudly that Sakajin almost felt the need to flatten them on the sides of her head, but instead she chose to ignore it and turn her gaze to where the captain clone had stumbled back. By the time she had her lightsaber in hand and activated, he was already out of sight.

Grievous finished off the last clone (something Sakajin didn't want to dwell on in the slightest) and was quickly stalking towards her just as she retracted the blade of her lightsaber and clipped it back onto her belt. "We need to get moving," His voice came, low, but urgent. "We need to get back to the ship right now."

"Why?" Sakajin questioned dryly as the cyborg stepped past her, strides long and quick enough that she had to nearly jog just to keep up. "Didn't you get them all?" Well, minus Red Boy. Sakajin didn't exactly see where the captain had fled, but she was at least sure he wasn't a threat any longer as far as she knew.

Grevious turned back towards here and looked about ready to say something or another. But he was cut off by the booming sound of a ship moving in overhead.

"Reinforcements," he hissed in disgust. "They've been expecting us." The ship was already lowering down into the clearing, the leaves and dust getting kicked up again when a sudden gust of wind whipped past. Sakajin needed to throw her arms up over her face just so it wouldn't get in her eyes or mouth again. When it all finally started to die down, the woman looked up to find herself alone in the clearing with the clones already getting her in their sight.

Oh shit.

She didn't have much of any chance to feel surprised when the first few blaster shots whizzed past her ears. It singed a few hairs, and Sakajin could actually taste a tinge of copper as the blast superheated the air it flew through.

Her first instinct to flee barreled through her mind, making the young woman turn on her heels and start running as fast as she could go. Her feet dug into the ground at every footfall, legs pumping and barely faltering in step when she needed to hurdle over a large tree root or through a thick layer of vines, wind and blaster fires flipping past her face in tandem.

Sakajin could still feel the hot burn of blasters even as she moved deeper into the thick forest, shirt starting to get snagged on by branches. But the fear pressed her forward, blindly, not even sparring a moment to turn around and look back. It was the fear that made her chest burn with exhaustion after who knew how long, and yet she just kept running.

She kept running until the finally couldn't continue anymore, coming to the edge of a clearing and letting herself trip and fall to the ground. The warm grass was nothing less than a godsend beneath her, giving the woman just a moment's worth of reprieve and relief that she wasn't dead.

And air. Air was definitely a thing that she very much needed. She turned to her back and gulped it in happily, letting it fill her lungs and start chasing away the intense burning that laced through her chest from simple exhaustion. "Sweet force," she muttered to herself. "What the hell happened?"

Of course, her question wasn't exactly answered. But the silence was a far more welcome thing than the sound of blaster fire and chaos, in any sense. After letting herself revel in the softness of the grass below her body, Sakajin finally started to push herself to sit up, giving her surroundings a bit more of an examination.

She was just at the edge of a small clearing, sun's light streaming down unfiltered to the ground and grass below, warming it and the air up beautifully. But lining around it was the familiar thickness of the forest, it's massive trees yet again not lacking in intimidation or confusion. Which direction did she come from anyway? Sakajin's eyes peered one way, and then the other, not entirely sure at all. But she wasn't dead, so that was certainly one thing she could put in her mental box of reliefs.

It was unsettling that she could almost, if attuned and listening hard enough, hear the faint sounds of battle probably taking place many miles away. Not too far, considering where she could recall seeing the battle on the landing into the planet's atmosphere.

It wasn't a current worry on her list. What was a worry however was the nature of the mission. Completely shattered to pieces really, considering the fact that their 'ambush' was ambushed itself. But at least she wasn't dead. God, the captain clone had that gun right in her face; she was still feeling adrenaline making her fingers twitch and her tail flicker nervously behind her, feeling it against the back of her legs.

Eventually however, the girl had to face the growing realization that she was effectively lost. She couldn't recall what happened to Grievous in the chaos of everything. For all she knew, he could still be back at the ship, battling the clones. Of course, after giving that musing a little more thought, it was quickly shot down as a plausibility. Not even Grievous could stand up to that many clones at once. And if they had been bringing in more reinforcements, who knew how many there were after all?

It made the young woman groan in the knowledge. What was she going to do about getting back? Where the clones still following her? How was she going to find Grievous?

She was so deep in her own thoughts of what she was going to do about being lost and alone, she didn't hear the crunching of the foliage behind her, and nearly screamed in sudden fear when she felt something step on her flickering tail.

"Oh holy crap-" She said instantly, rolling over in attempt to jump onto her feet and grab her lightsaber. "Don't you dare try t-" But when the young woman finally managed to get on her feet and on balance (chest only mildly burning and head just barely spinning), she realized whom it was.

"General!" She said quickly at the relieving sight of her master instead of another clone ready to shoot her dead, expression that of shock. "Where were you?"

General Grievous looked back at her with nothing less than muted loathing. He didn't exactly respond. Not with words at least. Instead, he growled and stepped forward out of the forest into the clearing. His cape behind him was burned in a lot of areas, perhaps where blaster fires had seared right through the fabric. It was an answer enough for Sakajin's curiosity at the moment at least.

So instead, she changed her question, pushing herself up and brushing off her shorts and shirt of any stray plant matter. The sun above grew dim, hidden behind a cloud, casting a shadow over the clearing much the way the tree tops did to the forest floor below.

"What…is the plan now?" She peered at the cyborg general with concern. Certainly he had a back-up plan. Or at least, she hoped he had a back-up plan.

He didn't answer for a long time. The sun slowly rolled out from behind the clouds, warming the clearing again with hot, thick sunlight. The trees swayed lazily in the wind, as if without a worry or care of the battling just a ways out, sounds growing almost depressively louder.

"Well," Grievous growled at last, his voice a snarl. "If they are expecting us, we shouldn't disappoint them now, shall we?"

He started stalking off in the direction of the battle, noises muted. Sakajin stared after him for a time in bewilderment. But the emotion only lasted for but a few lingering seconds, before she too started to follow just behind, her legs very much protesting the sense of movement at all.

"Wait," Sakajin huffed after. "So what are we doing?" it was rather hard to keep up with the cyborg when he took such long strides, but somehow Sakajin did manage.

Grievous moved his eyes to glare straight at the girl for almost a solid minute before finally giving her an answer. "We are joining the battle, of course," He growled, almost pushing Sakajin into a tree when she moved closer to stay in stride just beside him. "It would seem that any element of surprise has been completely crushed. I'll be speaking to Dooku afterwards so he can deal with the idiot who gave us such horrible information for us to use."

"Or the person could have done that purposely to get us killed," Sakajin offered as a possible answer as well. She stopped as Grievous did, his golden eyes looking back at her for a moment. She blinks, and takes the time to say, "It almost seems as if they alerted the Rebublic of what we were planning, or something."

Grievous didn't say anything, but from the way his expression shifted just a fraction she could tell he was considering it as a possibility. He let out a low growl after a few minutes, and then finally nothing else. The sounds of battle slowly grew louder and louder, and she didn't even know for how long they both were talking. An hour maybe. Long enough that she began questioning what sort of hope they had to complete the mission at all.

Sakajin's legs ached at each step, but she didn't say anything, not even when they came to the last stretch of thick forest tress before finally getting to the top of a hill that overlooked the battle in perhaps the emptiest of clearings on the planet. Thick grass covered everything, but without a single tree cutting through her line of sight, Sakajin could see everything.

It was incredibly immense. Clones and their fighters against the droid army's own. It was amazing, really, the raw scale of things. From the top of the ledge on the hill they came out upon, the battle looked distant, but one could easily feel the vibration in the ground from the blaster fires and marching armies on both sides.

"Holy shit," Sakajin gasped, overlooking the battle with unblinking eyes. "Whoever told you the base was small was really spewing out lies."

"I can definitely see that, female," Grievous hissed in return, already making a move to ready himself to fight. "Now get yourself ready for combat before I kick you over the ledge again. I don't think you'll fare well under such circumstances."

Not with a fall like that down the steep hill. Sakajin pulled back quickly, nearly falling over her own feet in her speed, pulling out the hilt of her lightsaber and clutching it in one hand. "So. A plan?" She inquired lightly, turning her gaze back to Grievous. In return, he looked at her.

"Yes. Don't get yourself killed, and keep behind me. The base is hidden in the forest just over the clearing. Powerful or not, we still need to infiltrate their perimeters." There was a sharp hum as he activated a lightsaber in each hand. "Do keep yourself from falling behind me."

Sakajin's mouth hung agape in confusion. Now that sort of plan just didn't make sense. "How in the world do you pla—" But the rest of her argument didn't matter, since the cyborg had already taken off into the battle field before she could finish. She gaped even more for a moment, completely unbelieving what just happened. But his words hung in her ears, thick and weighty, and she activated her lightsaber in turn. Well. Here we go. Do or die now, really.

She took a deep breath, and dove into the battlefield after her master.

* * *

Cover Art for the story is © r2griff2 on deviantArt

Additional art for the story can be found on my own deviantArt page; the link can be found on my profile.


	5. Betrayed?

_There is an old saying about war. It says that in battle, there comes a time where things are so chaotic, that time itself seems to stop. The explosions, the pain, the suffering around you numbs into nothing but silence. And for that moment of frozen time, and only for that moment, you carry a sense of fearlessness. Suddenly, death matters so little. You are but one fighter in a large war, one soul in a mass of many._

But of course, it only lasts for that one moment. Just a moment of frozen eternity. And then, everything suddenly clicks back into motion again.

* * *

The air was on fire with noise. Blaster fires, screams and orders permeated through like some sort of seeping oil, making everything murky and disorientated. And what wasn't filling the air with noise was certainly filling it with heat. Blaster fires flew in almost every direction around, a hellish rain that proved a far greater worry than just getting a little wet.

Sakajin wasn't used to all the noise, all the chaos. Never once before had she been in such a battle before to the scale. She knew in reality there couldn't be more than a few hundred droids, it seemed like so many more when she was caught in the crossfires, feeling them skim across the air in a sharp crack of energy. Even on the edge of the battle, doing her very best to keep behind her master as he weaved, sliced and cut his way through any stray clone fighters, Sakajin felt like nothing more than an insignificant speck in the broad landscape of war.

There was an overwhelming sense of grace that seemed to surround Grievous. Where Sakajin herself was clumsy in every deflection, sloppy in her skill at best, he was a figure built for battle. One moved smoothed into the next, deflect, step forward. His technique was, in all, merciless. He spared not a moment before killing one, two, three clones in barely a few seconds. He wielded two lightsabers as if he was born with the skill.

His apprentice merely did her best to keep up behind him, dodging a stray shot and deflecting it if only absolutely necessary. She was clunky, slow, and barely managed to keep up behind him. And they were only on the outskirts, the edge of the chaos. Sakajin could only wonder how things would go had they gone in the thick of things.

From the first glance towards the battle, there was little that caused too much worry. It seemed an ambush and battle if any; the line of droid soldiers slowly marching forward and pushing the line closer and closer towards what one could only assume was the base, which was behind the thicket of trees and brush. It wasn't until Grievous and Sakajin galloped deeper into the battle before the situation was finally looked at in a new, horrible viewpoint.

The clones just kept coming. Where Sakajin had once thought their forces seemed enough of a match, despite the worries over the last hour from their disrupted ambush, it still seemed as if the base was small enough to be overrun without issue. But the realization was quickly turning about, as she could spot several powerful canons and tanks rolling into the field, many of them already firing on the droid forces behind her. Liquid fear drained into her bloodstream, making everything run cold as she realized how horribly out-numbered they were.

"Master-" She started, voice inflecting her worry as she moved on behind him, dodging blaster fires even after they broke out of the center of the chaos and further onto the outskirting lines, seemingly forgotten by the battle itself. Exact numbers, obviously impossible to get, but even an idiot could have figured things out.

Did someone forget to mention the number of canons that the Republic base had at their disposal during the few months the mission took to plan?

Sakajin wouldn't have ever called Ukiato's base 'small' in any form of the word, and she had only been part of the main battle for half an hour at most.

Grievous and she broke off from the line of battle when they finally came to the thick underbrush just on the outskirts, out of sight and behind the enemy lines that they were very easily defending. Grievous made it seem easy enough, ducking out of the pushing lines and veering straight into the underbrush. Sakajin on the other hand tripped nearly there, two seconds from getting stomped on by a clone-run rolling canon. She clumsily pushed herself back onto her feet and finally into the cover of the trees. The sound of the canon firing behind her was nearly deafening.

It wasn't until both Grievous and Sakajin were safely under the cover of shadow and brush that she voiced her very obvious worry once more, she very out of breath from nearly getting run over. "This base is a lot bigger than what you said it was going to be before, are you sure that-"

She didn't get to voice her entire worry. Mostly because the look that Grievous shot her was the physical manifestation of death itself. She clamped up almost instantly, biting on her lips and retracting her lightsaber with a swift shlick of air. The air rushing in and out of her lungs was soon the only noise between them, up until Grievous finally responded.

"Do you think I haven't noticed that yet?!" He demanded in a low, but harsh growl in turn from her. The cyborg almost hissed as he turned his head, looking out of the brush the best that its thick vines and leaves allowed towards the continuing battle. "I am absolutely sure the information they gave us was true." Sakajin wasn't entirely sure if his words were toned in a manner of force, as if trying to make them be true, or merely in his own aggressive expression of shock at their falsity.

There were a few solid moments of absolute silence between the two as a few clone troopers marched just past where they were hidden by the cover of the trees, both more than ready to fight if noticed, though Sakajin was the epitome if fear while Grievous—well, Grievous just emanated absolute rage. He let out a snarl when the clones passed. "There must have been a traitor in the development of the takeover, supplying those fools with information about our attack."

"It would explain how the clones knew we were going to try and ambush the base from the south," Sakajin quipped in lightly, though she really knew it was probably just best to keep silent when her master looked about ready to strangle anything in an arm's length from him. Then again, she never was very good with doing what was best for her survival.

The calls and commands of the marching droids were starting to die off as the clone defense line pressed forward, beginning to take up the field at an almost incredible pace. Sakajin knew that their forces wouldn't last more than another hour or so at the rate they were getting pushed back. She was no strategist, nor would she ever start claiming herself one. But even she knew they were going to lose with how things were turning.

"I don't think it's a good idea to go in like this," She tried after a few silent moments, voice light and almost overly careful not to hit a switch. She clipped her lightsaber onto her belt. "I mean, it's obvious they got wind of this early and are more than prepared. I mean, they probably have on-call reinforcements to outnumber us even further even if we barely manage—Master?"

She didn't look beside her until the lack of a very angry general snarling or growling to cut her off was more than obvious. When she did finally decide to peer around, Sakajin found Grievous already long-gone, the leaves and plants still shivering in motion from his swift movement through the brush.

He was already many paces away, and she was barely able to catch up with him through the short visibility that the thick plants, vines and trees allowed. Nevertheless, with much distain, Sakajin finally managed to get close enough to start speaking again (even if it meant possibly setting him off—it was a suicide mission at that point!).

"Is this a good idea?" The plant matter beneath her feet offered a surprising lack of noise, which might otherwise have given away their presence far sooner, the lines of clones just a few long paces away from the edge of the forest line and still pushing forward. Sakajin mumbled her aggravations when vines and branches continued to catch on her clothes, hair, and ears (very painfully the ears). "Sir, they are destroying the few droids on the battlefield! I just—I don't think we have much of a choice but to—to retreat, really." The logic seemed infallible. They had less troops, were severely out-gunned, and had been pulled into a situation where Ukiato was actually _prepared_ for their currently non-ambush.

Considering the fact that Grievous was known for his retreats when outnumbered, Sakakjin was severely confused and concerned why he seemed to still feel a need to continue the mission.

"That's exactly the reason," Grievous growled in return, though it was hard to make out a lot of his words with him being in front of Sakajin. "We will use any sense of overconfidence they get from this battle against them. The battle can still be ours if we disable the shield generator keeping our ships from attacking it directly."

Sakajin's mouth was half-opened to say something further, but instead she found herself running into Grievous when he stopped suddenly in front of her. He made a motion with his hand, which after Sakajin recovered from the slight daze interpreted for her to keep quiet. At first the gesture seemed rather confusing; she didn't hear anyone approaching, nor did she feel they were close enough to the battle any longer that anyone would actually pick up on their movements.

Nevertheless, the hybrid kept her mouth firmly closed, eyes moving about the thick and blinding vegetation in attempts to pick out whatever had stopped the General. There was a lot of greenery abound, hard to see through at all for any considerable distance in front of oneself. Not even after pulling her ears forward did Sakajin hear anything of concern. It was as silent as it could be, with the sound of a losing battle just barely tainting the air around her.

And then Grievous took off.

Sakajin nearly jumped in shock when his sudden motion caught her attention. It wasn't until another moment later that it all caught up with her brain, the young woman finally having enough sense to push herself after him.

"Master!" She hissed in a desperate attempt not to lose him for a second time. If he got too far in the thick vegetation, Sakajin was concerned she'd be completely turned about in her sense of direction. "Master?" She pushed her way past thick leaves and grasses, doing her best to ignore the way countless bits of brush scratched against her arms and legs or how it felt as if she was about to run into a tree trunk at every turn.

There was the faint rustling of leaves and grasses ahead, though the vegetation had an almost reflective property to the sound and made it extremely hard to pinpoint exactly what direction it was coming from. So, Sakajin merely moved in the direction that it came from the strongest, finally resorting to cutting away most of the vegetation in her path with a few slashes of her lightsaber every few moments, even as the sound began to die away completely into silence otherwise. There certainly had to be an easier way to keep up with him.

In comparison to losing Grievous completely in the thick brush, the worry of being heard quickly became little more than just a nagging thought in the back of the hybrid's head. She just continued forward, feeling each moment of her vulnerability in being alone, despite not knowing entirely how long it was until she came across the first clearing within the thick underbrush.

After one last slash and sizzle, the smell of burning leaves more than evident in her nose, Sakajin saw the beam of light that came from the thick forest giving way the small area of grass and soft yellow flowers. After carefully stepping outward and into it, sure for no clone to be too close to her position, she took a breath and made a soft sound of worry. The sound dissipated almost eerily on the wind, making the trees rustle, and the grasses wave against her bare legs.

The tension grew when the area around her fell into an almost creepy silence. Sakajin stepped forward, turning about in a careful survey of the area around her before finally clipping her lightsaber back onto her belt.

Worry started to drain through her thoughts as she realized how horrible the situation was. Grievous was, in all, nowhere to be seen. The battle was an utter loss, outnumbered as well as outgunned, and Sakajin hadn't herself an idea what she was supposed to do. She glanced down at her wrist for a moment, considering if her situation was sire enough to connect to Grievous' communicator to see where he was. It had been a strong rule not to use it, mostly due to the possibility that their frequency would be picked up that close to the base and the fact that it could be loud enough to alert any clones that were close enough.

Sakajin felt the risk was worth it. She pulled her wrist up, tapping the button in efforts to get the communicator both on and tuned to Grievous' own.

There was a bit of static at first, possibly due to the interference of the battle, but eventually it died enough for her to hold it near her face and speak.

"Sir?" she asked, unsure. "Grievous, are you there?" her tongue wiped out against her dry lips, eyes searching around her in a continuing sense of caution. She never noticed how vulnerable it felt to stand in the clearing, no cover around herself, enough so that she pulled herself back a few steps so the edges of the thicket pricked and tickled at her calves.

At first, there was a thick, blasting white noise, and Sakajin at first wondered how much interference she was actually getting. It was a private channel, and there wasn't any heavy metal deposits around (that she could tell, at least). She tapped it again.

Grievous' voice crackled out of the com.

"…ship….are…planet…eat…." the communicator wheezed and cracked, causing the woman to rap it with her knuckles once more. She had fixed it the last time it was broken, mostly. It wasn't as if people left spare parts for old communicators lying about, but it hadn't given her much issue up until then.

"Er, Grievous? I didn't hear much from that—what did you say?" Her eyes rose up once more to the forest around her, expression showing that of her confusion and caution. Suddenly, Sakajin felt very worried. She tried the communicator a few more times, though her fervent questions got no response. She was about ready to just keep going, in hopes she'd somehow meet up with Grievous as she had before in the confusion, but the sound of shifting brush had her instantly on-guard.

Her stance moved to that of defense, one hand quickly at her belt, the other held out and tense, as if it could do anything against a threat. Upon brushing her thumb against the igniter, a form finally came out from the brush. The sleek silver and white coloring was the first indication that led to Sakajin's hand falling from her belt.

It was not a clone. Though it was very pissed, it was most certainly not a clone. It wasn't an entirely relieving sight, however, even if it wasn't another enemy to take out.

"That communicator of yours needs to be fixed," the snarl of a voice came as nothing of a surprise from Grievous as he stepped out of the other side of the forest clearing, his footsteps as slow as they were calculated. "Did you not hear the command from Lord Dooku?"

The question set Sakajin to confusion. "What? Of course not," She said in distain, turning as Grievous stepped past her; he made an obvious effort to hit the communicator on her wrist, though she'd hardly call the action very gentle when a sharp metallic sound rang in her ears from the contact. She pulled her arm up close to her torso. "I only heard your response from my question. Why? Are we winning?"

She didn't exactly expect to get any sort of message, be it either from Grievous nor Dooku that they were losing. Considering the dismal circumstances trying to give that sort of message across would have been trying to kill a dead wookie; it was obvious to anyone with sentience how horrible the tides of battle had turned, and so quickly at that.

Sakajin took a moment to tap the back of her fingers against her communicator, mostly out of unconscious response to his first statement. Grievous looked about the sky above, eyes seeming to try find something that was otherwise hidden from view. The sky above was as clear as ever.

"They have reinforcements approaching the system," he said at last with a tone that was far too calm for the situation. The grass brushed against Sakajin's legs again as she stepped through, approaching Grievous as he continued. "The first should be entering the planet's orbit shortly. Count Dooku called for a complete retreat of this…mission, considering the leak of information that occurred."

Sakajin was sure if only by the tone of Grievous' voice, that hadn't been the only thing that Dooku relayed to the General. She said nothing, but gave a short nod nonetheless to show that she at least acknowledged the information.

Grievous took in a slow breath, coughed for a few (very painful really) seconds, and snarled. "We need to leave now, girl."

"And the droids here already?" Sakajin followed as Grievous began pacing back the way they came. "What about them?"

"Expendable," Grievous responded lowly. "Almost all of them are already disabled or unable to be of any use." There was a hidden rage behind his words, none too hard to pick out if one was sensible enough to listen. Upon their return back to the Black Halo, Sakajin knew she would need to keep a mental reminder to keep as far from her master as possible, if her suspicions about what one-sided arguments might occur between Grievous and Dooku were truth.

Their pace quickened after a few minutes, hurrying through the forest to return back to their ship (which was hopefully still even there). Sakajin's pace behind her master was decidedly less quick, having once more to account for the thick grasses, plants, and other debris that littered across the forest floor.

"Could you please slow down?" Sakajin called ahead, her chest and legs starting to burn from the exertion of the sprinting. "Please?" Her cries and complaints of course had no response, even when the woman began to trail farther and farther behind. She cursed under her breath and made a noise between that of relief and aggregation when they finally broke out from the cover of the thick forest once more, that time into what was perhaps the other side of the battle field. Or somewhere. Sakajin lost her sense of direction fairly quickly with how many trees that surrounded her. Coming from a planet where trees were rare across the landscape, she didn't understand how anyone at all was able to keep their sense of direction in such a place.

She pressed her body onwards with little more protest, despite knowing how much her lungs were going to hate her in the very near future. Beat getting lost again from her master with a communicator that didn't seem to work in the slightest, apparently.

The battle was behind her, more or less, and all that mattered was getting off the planet. She could worry about how much her chest ached or how much the plan sucked in the future.

Before Sakajin could revel further on the complete mess of a battle everything had quickly fallen to, she felt a sudden, sharp pain tearing across her leg. It was like a knife at first, cutting across her skin so sharply she thought at first some bit of metal debris had cut her. After a split-second however, the slicing pain quickly started to burn. It seized through her body, causing the woman to scream out in pain and fall to the ground.

Her leg burned, a fire practically licking at the side of her calf. Sakajin screamed again at the sudden pain, reaching her hands down instinctively as if she could actually do something to stop it. Fingers brushed downward and felt the shallow, but painful sensation of charred tissue, and the mere contact of her fingers against the wound made the woman's mind scramble.

Blaster fire.

She didn't regain her senses for another few moments, realizing that she was laying side-down in the grassy ground and clutching at her leg. It was then Sakajin started pushing herself up, hobbling with her weight on her good leg, and barely managing to press any on the other. She fumbled around to look at the direction she had been running, half-expecting to see her master at least noticing her cries of pain. Instead, for but a blurry moment's chance to see, she couldn't make out much besides tall grass and huge trees lining the distance. A greater observation was quickly forced away when Sakajin felt a form suddenly barreling into her own.

It knocked her flat back onto the ground, dazed and confused, body thrumming with adrenaline. Not a moment of hesitation came from Sakajin as she instinctively thrashed out as the unseen enemy made a grab for her wrists, getting one in its grip before going for the other.

The struggle continued as the hybrid tried to roll out from beneath the weight pressing down on her hips and legs, only furthering the flood of fear and adrenaline when the pressure made her burning leg flare up with agony even further. Trying to make a grab for her lightsaber didn't work, fingers only grasping empty air and mentally cursing upon the realization that the enemy had probably already grabbed and tossed it away upon tackling her down. She hissed, screamed and pulled back, but only managed to make her arm twist uncomfortably when the enemy's grip on her wrist didn't falter, instead making her arm and shoulder scream from being bent too far behind her back.

The momentary lapse in struggle allowed the other to get Sakajin's other wrist, finally forcing her onto her stomach with both of her arms forced against the small of her back. It was then that the form above her, sitting on her hips, was perceived as human-shaped. And while her leg's burning seemed to cloud most of the sensory perception of her waist-down, Sakajin could feel the smooth, coolness of armor occasionally brushing against her legs.

Dammit. It was a clone. It was a clone and she hadn't had a single clue how he managed to follow her—or see her really—considering they were moving as far _away_ from the battle as possible. Yet there she was, captured and struggling, pain licking up the nerves of her leg more and more with every beat of her heart.

There was an obvious clicking sound when electro-cuffs replaced the clone's hands holding her wrists. Of course, Sakajin didn't stop struggling. She couldn't even begin to comprehend the meaning of the sound, denying it outright what was happening to her. After all, it was just a restraint—she could still fight, still struggle, still make it back to the ship in time.

Pain lashed when Sakajin's struggling and flailing of limbs instead ground her legs down against the rocky earth beneath the thick grass. She screamed again, bright red color flashing across her vision, and felt a hand pressing against the back of her head. Fingers laced through her thick, messy brown hair, but instead of grabbing and yanking her head back like she thought, it simply rested there, palm-flat to the back of her skull.

"Settle down," A voice said above her. "Struggling is just going to make you yank out your shoulder. That hurts a hell of a lot more than a blaster shot to the leg, lemme tell you." The hand simply rested there, pressed (gently?) against her head in what could have been the only soothing gesture possible in that position.

Considering all that was against her, Sakajin couldn't see much option, mostly because the pain in her shoulders and legs were starting to make her vision cloudy and thoughts dull. She fell limp beneath the weight of the clone on her, moving instead to lay her cheek against the ground.

"Please get off of me," She said at last. Her tone was low, soft, because there really wasn't much other option she could think of—and he was really starting to make it rather hard to breathe. "I can't breathe here." The man above her seemed to take in the request for a few moments, but he finally pushed himself off of her.

"You are an odd one," the clone's voice said, almost too-casual considering the fact that Sakajin was very sure she was about to pass out from how much her leg was burning. There wasn't much she could do to will the sensation down either—surprisingly enough Sakajin had yet to get herself shot with a blaster until then. Lucky girl, Sakajin. First time hit with a blaster shot, feeling like she was getting her leg burned off, and subsequently captured by the enemy on her first main battle.

She just won the lottery of the most unfortunate things that could have ever happened.

"Scorch reporting to base," The clone said, presumably into his own com. Sakajin sighed and tried to pull at her wrists, but they were held together with the cuffs indefinitely. Though there was a slight amount of give to allow her shoulders to flex in a relatively normal angle, it felt as if she was trying to tear apart pure Dura steel cables.

The clone continued to say something else, but instead of trying to listen to him, Sakajin concerned herself with pushing herself back up again. Her wounded leg was more or less shot, every movement making nerves lace and twist with burning pain, but it didn't stop her from getting herself to sit up. Her green eyes just barely hovered over the tall grass carpeting the ground, peering about the surrounding area with awe and shock. Grievous wasn't at all in sight, form long gone. Though the hope smoldered in her mind, because she wasn't that hopeless, right? Grievous was a bit of a jerk, but he wouldn't just leave her behind like that. He wouldn't.

Or really, Sakajin wouldn't have mind for anyone to help her. She wasn't a helpless little girl by any means, but it was rather difficult for a young woman with only three or four months of formal lightsaber training to escape from being cuffed and captured by a clone (one whom really wasn't afraid to toss his weight about at that). A strike of lightning could have come crashing down and freed her arms, and Sakajin really wouldn't have given it two thoughts. Alright, perhaps there would be some very strong bewilderment and perhaps a bit of screaming, but anything was good for her. Grievous had been at least the most likely thing to get her out of her predicament. That was what masters did right? Not entirely abandon their apprentices and leaving them to the mercy of the enemy just because they couldn't keep up right?

The clearing felt empty, sun already low on the other side of the sky (how short were the days on Ukiato?) It spawned a fairly random worry on how little Sakajin knew about the planet's geography—that might have been a good thing to study on before the mission. And her leg really hurt. Her legs, plural, really hurt too. Oh yeah, they hurt a lot. Every little shiver and adjustment of her body made her lips twitch as another groan of pain left them. She was rather tired. No, she was very tired. Or perhaps just extremely worried. Good going Sakajin, got yourself caught on the first mission as an apprentice. Ten points for you right here.

A hand pressed down against her shoulder, causing the hybrid to jerk her head around in a combination of fear and simple reaction (the now-dull burn singing her leg nerves were making everything look like a threat, really). When her vision caught up, she was both incredibly surprised and incredibly aggravated by whom she saw as the clone who captured her.

"I could have sworn that Grievous killed you," She said, to the point where really, kicking about and screaming like an idiot was just going to make her legs ache more. The clone, red one from earlier that day (the one leading the ambush that ambushed Grievous and Sakajin's ambush?) shook his head in response, though his hand didn't remove itself from her shoulder. Just like it had been against the back of her head, the contact was relatively gentle.

"I'm sorry to tell you, but he's a coward. Runs off whenever something isn't in his favor." He was kneeling beside her, far enough away that Sakajin's mind didn't feel anymore threatened than she did about anything else around her, but close enough to pick up the finer details of his armor. It was roughed up and scratched, blotched with areas where the otherwise intricate red lines were smudged and scraped off. "Not to mention we already had our reinforcements heading in since you guys landed. Just needed to know when you guys were planning on trying to bust into the base."

Green eyes peered about the clone, sizing him up in a moment of unconscious cautiousness. "…I…know that much," She replied at last, finally looking away from him, pulling in her legs to keep from falling to the side and wincing when her leg scraped against the ground. Another moment past and Sakajin in all rights felt a slight twitch of curiosity. "…you knew about the ambush. I'll give you guys credit for being prepared."

The clone—whose name was Scorch apparently—let out a soft chuckle of a sound, responding to what could only be assumed as a question from his communicator with a series of numbers. Coordinates, probably. "Not nearly enough credit; we've been expecting you guys for a couple weeks now, actually. Had a couple ships stationed to help if the forces here waned a bit."

It did nothing to help with Sakajin's fear and realization that, with each passing second, she was less and less likely to get herself out of the situation. However, it did ease her pessimistic curiosity that yes, they were seemingly doomed to fail from the start. He lifted his hand from her shoulder and moved to stand up again. He said a few more series of numbers, and finally let out an odd sound. Amused perhaps? Or maybe even annoyed, though it was rather hard to tell from such a short-sounding grunt anyway.

"Can you confirm the ship is out of orbit?" Scorch said to his com, perking Sakajin's curiosity towards his conversation, which seemed to be far more than just a few bits of numbers. "…Alright. I got his apprentice though. I'm bringing her back to the base—" There was a slight pause in his words, and when Sakajin turned her face to look at him, she found that briefly his visor was in her direction. She didn't know what to make of the attention, considering his tone didn't assist in understanding what the clone was thinking, and obviously his expression was hidden. "—I'm also going to need a medical droid ready; I nicked her calf with a shot. At least some pain medication would be nice.—Yes, I plan on doing that. Affirmative. I'll be waiting for pickup."

After a bit of shifting behind her, Sakajin nearly jumped when the clone suddenly sat beside her again, his rifle adjusted from his back and onto his lap. "Hate to say it, but your master's played the coward again. Er." It was obvious that he seemed to regret the words after saying it, blunt and honest. Sakajin merely peered at him for a moment as the truth sunk in.

"No," She said, though more as a knee-jerk response to the initial meaning. "That can't be true. He couldn't just—"

"Left you here? Sad to say but uh, it's either that or the clanker shot off his only way off the planet." Scorch didn't exactly sound very sorry, but he did at least sound a little—sympathetic? No, that wasn't it. He didn't sound completely cold to giving Sakajin the unfortunate news, at the very least. "I just uh—thought you might want to know about that."

Sakajin didn't respond, her mind trying to twist over the realization of her situation. She didn't even let herself look at the clone, eyes instead staring down at the ground beneath her, no matter how much her legs ached and burned. She couldn't believe that she was just left behind. It didn't exactly make sense. Of course, she knew that in the larger picture, she herself wasn't very important. Her loss wouldn't exactly cause a loss for the CIS, or do anything politically. But still, there had to be _some_ weight or importance that her life held with being Grievous' apprentice—right?

Sakajin continued to wonder and worry on her horrible situation even when the dropship came, fearful of what sort of dismal situation she fell into, and unsure what it would mean for her future. Had she really been abandoned?

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**AUTHOR'S NOTES: **Thank you guys so much for your views and reviews as always! I cannot begin to say how much I appreciate them. I full-heartedly apologize for taking so long with this chapter. While I could say that college made me a bit busy, the whole truth is that I also began getting into the hobby of charm-making (you can see more about this on my dA page!), as I'm planning on opening an etsy shop early next year. Nevertheless, huzzah for continued reading of my story! Always humbled to hear that people love where this fanfiction is going-thanks guys!

** Little Waterbear**: Actually, I hadn't at all thought about that, but you bring up quite an interesting point! However, while I haven't entirely fleshed them out in-story, I always had this idea that the Sharaidos looked reptilian, but of an almost-dragon sort of look. However, they more or less prove to serve as symbolism for Sakajin's fear, or nightmares in some sense, so I do suppose they are more open for reader interpretation.

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Cover Art for the story is © r2griff2 on deviantArt

Additional art for the story can be found on my own deviantArt page; the link can be found on my profile.


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